


The Reckoning

by bratanimus



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bendemption, F/M, Found Family, Implied Sexual Content, Jedi, Jedi Ben Solo, Jedi Rey (Star Wars), Marriage Proposal, Nudity, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rey and Ben deserve a happy ending, Younglings, new jedi school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratanimus/pseuds/bratanimus
Summary: Because of Rey, Ben has grown rather good at waiting. But she’s waiting, too, for something that hasn’t dawned on him yet. [Post-TROS mildly angsty marriage proposal fluff, hope you enjoy!]
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	The Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erin410](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erin410/gifts).



> Thanks to mrstater for the beta! Written as part of the Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange for Erin410's second prompt: Ben doesn't die at the end of TROS, skip ahead a few weeks after the war, domestic fluff, Ben proposes, in canon universe.

Their days have become ritual, and he likes it that way. 

Mornings they awaken before dawn, naked in each other’s arms, and smear sleepy kisses across each other’s mouths, grumbling about the hour as they struggle into soft leggings and tunics and belts.

Ben’s stomach growls on cue, so he’s the first to shamble from the bedroom into the kitchen. The cottage on Ajan Kloss is snug, but it’s theirs. Like his own miniature, disheveled shadow, Rey trails him and blinks in the dim light of the emergency lamp on the countertop. 

(He can’t bear total darkness anymore, and she never could; so, like superstitious children, they always leave it lit.)

Taking turns, one prepares breakfast, one heats the caf, and then they sit together at the too-small table to discuss the day’s lesson plans for the younglings: Finn can lead meditation, Jannah might teach target practice, Ben may introduce saber forms, Rey could demonstrate levitation. They discovered early on that whatever specific plans they make often change, but the structure of the day remains as constant as the stars and planets by which one might pilot through an asteroid field. 

_‘Dead reckoning_ ,’ his father had called the practice of position fixing. _Less fussy than ‘astronavigation_.’ _It’s math, but it’s also gut, kid. And you’ll make mistakes, but you’ll get there. You’ll see._

(Ben’s memories come less painfully, sometimes. This one gives him hope.)

After breaking their fast, Rey and Ben go out into the village, such as it is, and call the younglings, many of whom have already left the dormitories and are playing in the damp grass. Ben has groused that “younglings” is an imprecise term, because some, like Finn and Jannah, are in their twenties. Rey has suggested that “foundlings” might be more appropriate, and Ben agrees, for the most part, except that most of the foundlings still have parents they visit every so often. Their students don’t seem to mind either name. Every morning the youngest leap upon the two Jedi teachers, trying to see who can topple Ben or make Rey giggle until she snorts. Neither endeavor is too difficult.

Noon meals entail sitting on the ground in the sunshine, or nestled within the cavernous starship hangar when it rains, eating packed lunches with the students and discussing all manner of things important and trivial.

(The first week outdoors, Ben got a sunburn. It hurt to smile but he couldn’t stop, and neither could Rey.)

Students may return to the dorms for dinner, but they seldom do because there’s always something interesting going on and no one wants to miss out. Connix is teaching herself and anyone else who cares to learn how to garden. Chewbacca and Rose are repairing every last starfighter—in case the dregs of the Final Order rise again—and they welcome any small limb that can fit a spanner into the narrow spots. As the Force takes up more of Finn’s time, Poe tends to want to run things single-handedly, despite other hands that can do certain things better and must raise a finger to remind him of that fact. Zorii, when her crew is back on base with Republic news, keeps Poe’s ego in check. Maz has stories to tell and plenty of listeners; it’s Rey’s idea of a sermon, and she often sits with the youngest congregants or the droids, who record it all. Wherever Rey goes, Ben follows.

They are foundlings all, with their found family, and Ben wonders every day how he deserves this. Rey insists, in this matter at least, that he is never to question the will of the Force.

At sundown, Ben and Rey return to their cottage, glad for the quiet, for hot showers, for a simple meal together, for one another’s bodies. At night, after they’ve taken their fill of each other, Ben tugs Rey to his chest and murmurs into her forehead, “Marry me, Rey.”

And every time, Rey tucks a leg in between his two and replies in a sleepy voice, “We’ll see,” just before she starts snoring.

Ben smiles and thinks, _Yes, we will._

And then, the next morning, they awaken and do it all again. It’s ritual, and it keeps him steady as he finds himself again from the inside. A dead reckoning.

As the weeks pass, fewer eyes dart away from his. More lips part in greeting or, from a handful—on good days—even a smile. Ben and Rey have told their young students who Ben used to be, though he knows most of them don’t believe it. That’s fine, too. He encourages skepticism, but reminds them when someone shows them who they really are, good or bad, they would do well to trust their senses and respond accordingly.

“But you’re good!” one of the boys, Temiri, protests. “No one could make you be bad!”

Ben fingers the phantom wound on his abdomen, wants to make his mother’s joke, _You should’ve seen the other guy_. Instead, their lesson about mind reading turns into one about erecting mental shields.

Rey’s guilt twinges at the touch of his wound, and he soothes her with a brush through the bond. Ben wouldn’t be alive if she hadn’t killed Kylo. _Nor would you_ , he whispers into her heart.

His own lurches, and it’s her turn to steer him back to _here_.

Back in their bed, at night, after they can’t tell whose sweat is on their tongues anymore, Ben holds her close and says again, “Marry me, Rey.”

“We’ll see,” she murmurs, tucking her knee between his thighs.

Kylo saw her taking his hand the second time he offered it, only he didn’t know it was Ben’s. All Ben has to do now is wait. He can do that.

But Rey doesn’t fall asleep immediately. _Interesting_ , he thinks. He presses his lips to the still-damp skin at her hairline and drifts off, smiling.

The ritual of their days blurs together like stars at light speed, one into the next.

Occasionally Uncle Luke perches on the outskirts of the training field, where he nods or winces or offers a bit of advice. Ben listens. Ben’s mother, when she deigns to appear, often disagrees with Luke, but neither of them is wrong, Ben gets that now. And with Rey’s laughter, he sees that none of this is life and death anymore.

(Even though Rey sometimes blinks back tears just as Ben feels the same grief tighten his throat.)

But every night: “Marry me, Rey.”

“We’ll see.”

The season changes, bringing with it torrential rain and waterproof ponchos. Ben and Rey replace the roof of their cottage when it starts leaking and install durasteel shutters to block hurricane-force winds. During breaks in the rain they sit on the front stoop and drink dark, rich cocoa, watching the steam swirl upward across each other’s flushed cheeks.

Ben witnesses the youngest foundlings growing before his eyes. When Rey plays with them, something tugs within his chest. He sees his future self, with Rey, and kids of their own. It’s so beautiful that he forgets to breathe. In the midst of the game Rey feels it, too, and stops still to look over the kids’ heads back at Ben.

 _Marry me, Rey_.

She smiles at him before a gaggle of children knock her off balance and engulf her on the muddy grass. She’s a seed, growing, and the foundlings are her soil. Her laughter keeps him rooted to the spot, grinning like the fool he is.

Dawn into day into dusk into night, they navigate their moments more or less successfully. He’s doing all right. So is Rey.

_Please. Marry me._

_We’ll see._

He’s not above trying to catch her at a weak moment, when he has her against the bedroom wall— _yes, yes, yes_ —

“Marry me?”

She laughs. “Nice try…”

Because he already knows her answer, of course. And so does she. He can wait.

It’s raining when Poe and Finn and the other Resistance leaders allow him into a meeting. They don’t really talk about anything important; Ben feels a skittishness in the air as though he’s still the viper he once was. 

Rey holds his hand, her chin lifted high.

 _You belong_ , she insists.

But he can’t help thinking, _We’ll see_.

Their eyes meet, and he understands now. Why she puts him off. 

She’s still waiting.

( _I was waiting for you_ , she’d told him all those months ago. _For Ben to come back. For you to believe you could come back_.)

He feels a wry smile stretch his face. Part of him is still in the asteroid field, and she knows it.

Ben throws himself into lessons, the children, and Rey. He makes friends, and his attempts at small talk grow less awkward. He brings caf to Finn and Jannah and the other older students each morning, while Rey brings hot chocolate to the younger ones. He spends an evening now and then with Lando, who comes to visit his daughter; there’s more history there than Ben could ever hope to remember, but he tries. He helps Chewie and Rose with the repairs, though they’re nearly done and mostly sit around talking. He backs up Poe during meetings and provides as much intel as he can on what the few Order holdouts might have up their sleeves, knowing he has no sway here but wanting nevertheless to be one of the many pillars that keep this new community sturdy. He notices that the ex-Troopers scrutinize him during these meetings, but some of them sit near him now, as if there’s no difference between them anymore.

(Yes, he and FN-2187 were the same then, and now. They both wanted out. Finn just happened to be a better escape artist.)

A day comes that doesn’t feel like the others, despite the usual breakfast and caf at the kitchen table with Rey. There’s something he’s trying to remember, just out of reach. Something important. Something he used to know.

When they go to gather the foundlings, Chewie and Lando are there, surrounded by the students, some former Storm Troopers, even Poe.

With a huge grin, Rose displays a birthday cake.

Ben has to steady himself with a hand on Rey’s shoulder. 

She looks up at him with wide eyes.

“I swear, I didn’t know—”

“Neither did I,” he assures her.

That date had been buried with his name, and now, because of Chewie and Lando and the rest of his found family...it exists again. 

He blows out the candles and serves himself last, and it’s the best kriffing cake he’s ever tasted.

(Before the first lessons begin, he pretends he forgot something. Back in the privacy of the cottage, with the taste of precious sugar still in his mouth, he leans against the door and weeps.)

The rainy season peters out, leaving hazy, humid days that feel longer and lighter. Their students progress in their own unique ways, surprising Ben and Rey daily. Ben is invited to community meetings and other birthday celebrations. He even plans Rey’s party, bartering an actual blank paper book for sugar from Lieutenant Connix, and bakes a recognizable cake himself (after a couple of noteworthy failures he attempted while Rey was out of the house). For her gift, he crafts a new leather thigh holster for her blaster, based on what he remembers of his father’s.

(The night after his surprise party, Rey confessed, red-cheeked, that she couldn’t remember her actual birthday. Ben hounded her and kissed her until she agreed to make one up.)

And so it goes, that their daily rituals encompass more than Ben ever quite expected—more obligations and responsibilities, to be sure, but also pleasant surprises, and connections with people other than his partner in the Force. He’d thought she was enough for him, and she was. She is. But finding a family, too...perhaps he’s made it out of the asteroid field after all.

 _I reckon so, kid_ , whispers the echo of his father. Cracking dad jokes even now.

Blinking back tears, Ben swallows through the gratitude that squeezes his throat.

“Ben Solo,” Rey murmurs as he embraces her under the covers. 

“Mmm?” He loves the taste of her sweaty brow before sleep, but tonight she raises her face to his. Her eyes glitter darkly in the dim light that reaches their bedroom.

“Will you marry me?”

Ben grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Through their bedroom window, stars twinkle in a black sky, and Rey kisses him, long and sweet.

Finally, he’s home.

  
  



End file.
